Ghost of Time
by Kuro no Usagi
Summary: Time Lord this and Time Lord that, there had to be a Time Lady at least once doctor!
1. Haunted Whales

_ The sky was burned orange and it set a blaze the silver leaves within the forests. The sun high as it overlooked the glass citadel which capped the capitol from the overheated rust colored planet. The continent of Wild Endeavour, the slave of the capitol between the mountains of Solace and Solitude, was the home to the people who roamed the land and called it home. All alongside such a civilization the Game, broadening the monstrosities of the Galfreyans who had lived within the Rassilon Empire, still rampaged and yet had stopped so many years ago. Through that wonderful city of life and time, the people at the heart of it, all running, always running and never stopping. At their hands, they created life and caused death. They destroyed cities and empires which reined for centuries. They were Gods and they ruled over Time and Space. _

_ Though with such beauty came such horror, such fear. They did as they pleased, getting by even the Pythia curse of infertility. They created the looms, which wove together new life, just to get by. They jumped about, capturing the souls of warriors whom they watched kill to survive in the Game of Rassilon. Such a horrible place, such a wonderful and horrid place indeed._

She groaned as she slumped over, slamming her palm over the alarm which echoed in her tiny flat. She hated when her mind wandered around such a place, around her paintings. It wasn't a real place, it couldn't be. Rubbing her pale blue hues of sleep, she got up from the plush white sheets of her bed, stretching her arms up as her pale blonde curls rolled freely down her shoulders. She was dressed in a large plain white button up, only half buttoned and her black knickers. Opening her door, a rush past by her feet, jumping and licking her and the air around her.

"Pythia, please." She smiled as she lifted the tri-colored Pembroke corgi from the ground and fastened her on her hip. "Alright, let's get you some breakfast, yeah?"

Martha sank back into one of the seats within the TARDIS, her arms crossed and her brow raised. Her eyes were locked on the man who galloped around the console, hands darting, pulling, pressing, twisting, and tightening things as he went. She was almost mesmerized by how easily he went about talking of different planets, different stars and species and all around him he was still controlling their big blue box. She had lost interest in what he had been saying, something about how he had met Aztecs and how they had tried and sacrificed his friend in hopes of getting it to rain. She really didn't have a mind to listen to his chatter about past companions, though it was better than him talking about Rose.

Just at the sound of her name, Martha wanted to growl. She didn't understand why Rose was so important. She was gone now, she wasn't coming back. He had said it himself to Jack; she had been trapped in a parallel world and couldn't come back. Martha just didn't want to hear them chatting about and crying over how they had lost her. What made her so important anyways?

"Martha? Are you alright?" His voice broke her angering thoughts as he looked over from the console to his companion.

He had clearly informing her of some of his past adventures, asking whether or not she wanted to go and see some of the old civilizations of humanity when he saw it. It was a look, a very nasty kind of look. He hated those, so he had decided to break her thoughts and clearly it had worked because now she was leaning over the console, smiling like always.

"Yeah, fine as always." She scanned over the console, as if trying to make sense of all the nobs, levers and buttons which surrounded the center panel of the TARDIS. "So, where are we going then?"

The Doctor smiled, though he had offered her many options, obviously she hadn't been listening. He didn't mind much, most people gave up half way through his talks and only caught small pieces; he didn't blame them. Pulling down a lever, he smiled. "Italy, 753 BC, the founding of Rome." Martha copied the smile from his lips, as the TARDIS gave a large jerk and with it something crashed.

The Doctor cried out, continuing to yell out 'No no no no nooo'. Martha was thrown back into the chair she had previous been in and the Doctor shoved back as well. She asked him, but he ignored her, sprinting all around, slamming buttons and pulling levers and flicking switches all at once. With another large jerk, Martha and the Doctor were thrown away from the console, like it didn't want them to touch it. That never stopped the Doctor. Martha was gripping tightly to the bars which surrounded the console area, holding down her urge to vomit. The Doctor continued, no matter how hard the TARDIS jerked and pulled him from the machine, he continued till sparks began to fly.

"Doctor! What's happening!" She shouted, nearly being thrown off the deck in another swirling jerk.

"Something's interfering with Time vortex manipulator and causing a large wave of energy which is taking control of the TARDIS!" He shouted at her as he took advantage of another jerk, tossing himself into the console and pulling another strange lever with him,

"What does that even mean?"

"It means this'll be a rough landing!" He shouted as he slammed his hand onto a large green button.

Martha barely had a chance to tighten her grasp on the railing when he pushed the button. She was falling, _they _were falling. Martha screamed as she tried to keep her body close to the floor, keeping herself from being flung into the ceiling of the ship. With a large crash and a rumble which rolled out through the machine, the two of them collapsing to the ground. Martha groaned her whole body in pain. The lights of the TARDIS had died and the only light she got was the sparks which flew in every direction from the console. The Doctor had quickly begun to run around, diagnosing the problem.

"Doctor, where are we and what just happened?" Martha groaned as she slowly rose from the floor to her feet.

"I had to make an abrupt landing, and in the process it seems the time manipulation sequence has been shifted and that short circuited the main controls, which brought down the shields, causing the jerking and swirling about." Standing up, he grabbed the monitor, hitting the side of it, trying to get it working. "As for _where_ we are, I have no clue." He angrily threw the monitor aside, rubbing his brow.

"Well, we could just, go out and look. Can't be that bad can it?" Martha smirked lightly, ignoring his protests as she began for the doors.

"Martha, we've just dropped out of time vortex, I have no idea what out there." He shut the door as she had just slightly opened it, she raised a brow.

"Yeah, and that's never stopped you before, has it?" She smiled shrugging off his hand and opening the door.

She slid out the door, a salty breeze washing over her face. She looked around, seeing the ocean on the horizon. Looking out she could old stone building, or rather ruins, and the engines of cars roaming down the main street. She was easily able to deduce that it was Earth, looking out and seeing people, and by the many contemporary vehicles, obviously around the same time she was. Though looking out, that was about all she could make out. Poking her head back into the machine, see noticed the Doctor had disappeared.

"Doctor, it's Earth but I don't really know where or when exactly." Martha shouted, looking all around as she walked back up to the console.

"Swansea, Whales, 21st century." The Doctor replied, Martha noticing him under the console, almost entangled within the many colored wires below.

"And you can tell that from…?" Martha crossed her arms, her brow raised.

He looked up from his glasses at her and then back at whatever he was doing. "Superior Time Lord senses. Now go on, this'll take me a while to fix."

Martha nearly jumped out of her shoes and smiled. Rushing out, she let the Swansea city take her on a new adventure.


	2. Painted Beauty

Martha had loved the city. She had wandered down the pier and up the main street. She had found herself weaving into every shop which strung her attention; which was all of them. She had never been to Wales and this port side city was beautiful. She had walked down the main street, alongside the pier and up the other side of the same street. Now, she had wandered down a quieter street. Barely anyone was walking by, the shops mostly of voodoo and hand readings, which now after the experience with Shakespeare, she found completely daft. Though as the pit of her stomach grew, her eyes began to search for a place to eat or at least get something.

Her silent calls fell upon a small two story pale blue house, the sigh hanging above the door reading CAFÉ AND GALLERY. She shrugged, looking both ways before crossing the empty street to the small café. As she opened the door, she was immediately washed over with the smells of fresh pastries, cinnamon, and warm chocolate. She sighed, her stomach giving a low rumble in response. The interior was warm, the walls painted in striped of chocolate and cream as the mold ran beautifully along the floor. In the front room sat about ten small circular tables all with two dark wood chairs and white linen clothes.

"Ello deary, just you then?" Martha turned her attention to an older woman who smiled at her.

The woman was older and slightly plump. Her chocolate curls rolling down her pink cheeks and around her hazel eyes. She was dressed in a pair of light skinny jeans and a short sleeved band tee. She must have been within her mid-twenties, maybe older. Martha smiled and nodded, letting the waitress smile and begin to lead her off into one of the small tables towards the back. Placing a single sided parchment on the table in front of her, she left, giving another bright smile.

Martha scanned the menu, already knowing what her stomach wanted. Since coming through that door, she wanted a fresh cinnamon roll and a warm cup of chocolate. It had gotten chilly outside, and only now did she actually realize that underneath her red pleather jacket and black jeans, she was actually quite glad to be in such a warm environment. She leaned on her hand, her eyes scanning out the window. With a sigh of relief, she watched the horizon as the water waved from so far away. She really needed a day to herself, to get her mind together after everything which had happened.

"So, what can I get you love?" a cool and soothing voice asked, causing Martha to look away from the sway of the sea to a new waitress.

Her hair was pale as they were all rolled up into a loose and lovely knot on her head with her bangs pinned back. Her pale blue eyes were nearly white as the setting sun hit them in the windows reflection. Even her skin was pale, and Martha wondered if she was sick or had some sort of disease. She smiled, answering her question with the cravings her stomach ached for. She smiled, her lips painted a cherry red. She was dressed in a pair of black distressed skinny jeans, a white painted tee which hung over her shoulder and a pair of black combat boots. She was lovely, though looked like a ghost.

"Coming right up and feel free to look about the gallery while you wait." She smiled, pointing towards a back room.

Martha waited till she had left to get up and follow the girls pointed finger. She hesitated a bit, curious as to what might be within these walls. Bucking up, she waltzed in and instantly she stopped. Her eyes widened and her body stiffened. She nearly collapsed to her feet, her eyes darting around the room full of painted canvases of such beauty and such emotions. As if a sudden shock ran through her body, she jolted from the café, rushing back up to where the TARDIS had dropped from the vortex.

Her mind was racing, those pictures running around like a movie in front of her eyes. She had only heard the stories, the ones he had told her, but to see it, to actually have an image in her mind; it was wonderful. Shoving open the door to the machine, she called out.

"Doctor! We have a problem!" Martha yelled, suddenly surprised by the living TARDIS once more.

"Oh, Martha. Got her all up and running again." The Doctor smiled, jumping down from the console, hands shoved in his pockets. "So, what's this problem we have?"

"Gallifrey!" just as she finished that word, his face had dropped and his expression died.

He gripped her arms tightly, growling through his teeth, "What about it? What's happened?"

"Paintings." Was all she could make out, her fear of the man in front of her boiling deep under her skin.

He sighed, his expression softening lightly, "Martha, Gallifrey is similar to the planet Mars, that's probably what you saw." He clapped his hands together a smile returning on his face. "Now come on, like I said. Romans!"

"Orange sky, is that Mars?" she replied, slightly irritated that he wasn't paying attention to her. "The glass thing…the-the-"

"The Capitol." He muttered, finishing her sentence. He didn't move; his face lowered on a single lever which would began a new adventure. "It can't be…no one on this planet knows about Gallifrey, where did you see these? Take me there."

Martha, now inwardly smiling that he had finally taken her words seriously, darted back out the doors, the Doctor on her heels. They weaved through the many people around the pier, all of them turning to them as they ran past. The wind began to pick up a bit as the sun became covered by the grey clouds above. They darted up the vacant street, the small blue house and the hanging sign just in sight. Martha wanted to explain, and with it she hoped that it was all just a mistake on her part; oh she wished it was a mistake. They began to slow down, the shop door now in her grasp. Pushing it open, she made eye contact with the sickly looking girl, who by looking up from whatever she was doing seemingly glared at them.

"You lot, have fun just running off?" She nearly growled, now standing in front Martha, arms crossed. "Or did ya have to go and get your mate here to join you without telling me?"

"I'm sorry to have to interrupt your obviously angry rant, but-"

"Oi! Shut up, you think I want to hear it Suity? I'm not interested. Besides, we're closing." Martha was astonished that the girl was able to easily get the slightly irritated Doctor to actually stop talking. "Who are you anyway?"

"I'm Martha and this is the Doctor." Martha growled back, now getting an icy glare.

"Oh? Another Doctor, fancy that." She rolled her eyes and began to walk away, obviously giving up on the idea of throwing them out. "Aren't you a little early for an exam Doctor?"

Martha opened her mouth, planning on explaining, but was stopped by the Doctor putting a hand on her shoulder, walking slowly forward. He had a curious expression; his glasses still perched on the bridge of his nose. Confirming her first statement, Martha nearly scoffed at the thought of _him_ being an actual doctor, when she was the one studying medicine. Crossing her arms tightly around her chest she rested most of her weight on her left hip as he mentioned that she was his assistant. The girl hesitated, looking at the two of them carefully.

"Yes, well, we're busy for the next few weeks, so they sent me early." He stepped forward, like facing a dragon. "I'm not familiar with what the other doctors did, so what do you normally do?" He always astonished Martha with his ability to wedge his way into being someone he clearly wasn't.

She pressed her tongue to the back of her teeth, something which stuck Martha with a familiar rush. "Normally you just do a check, run blood tests and body scans; checking as for why I'm such a ghost." She surprised the two by giving a laugh; which Martha noted was sweet and childish in nature.

She began walking towards the back room, turning she motioned for them to follow. She began talking, about her newest paintings, and about strange dreams, like someone was telling a story in her mind. The Doctor listened to every word, trying to fit everything into a puzzle within his mind. When they entered the room, Martha nearly ran into the Doctor; frozen within the door frame. She easily noted the movement his eyes made as they darted all around the room, wide yet somewhat hopeful.

The pale girl, Mair Watson, they had learned, took a seat in the far back. She seemed so mysterious to Martha and yet so ordinary. Her ghostly appearance was still troubling to her, wedging her way past the Doctor to roam the room herself.

"I painted all of these; guess it's my own little world." Mair huffed, setting her hands folded within her lap.

The Doctor didn't speak, though Martha complimented her on her work. Martha walked past, her hand rolling over the acrylic paints. There was one of a field of a strange red flower with a light for a core as it was swept within the lush crimson grass which met the orange burnt sky on the horizon. Another was of the snow capped valley in which the Capitol sat, between the mountains of Solace and Solitude. Another of a brown lake, fishes jumping and a little girl playing; something burning in her hands. As the Doctor's eyes swept over them, Martha could see the pain in his eyes, these memories breaking his hearts. He smiled weakly as he walked by the lake, muttering something about singing fishes and other creatures among the brown waters. He mumbled about the bioluminosity of the red velvet flowers within the field and how a single moon was so bright you could always see it. Martha smiled weakly, the Doctor catching up to her in front of another painting.

The sky was darkening and yet lighting up with the shining moons as the light hit the foliage on the canvas. A tree which broke from the ground below, surrounded by the crimson grass, shivered within the light as it hit the silver leaves creating a reflection of the moon among the sky. Martha could see behind his glasses that he always missed his home; always missed this planet.

"When did you paint these?" Martha, unknowingly angrily asked the girl, leaving the Doctor alone with the silver tree.

"Since I came here; to Wales. About, three years ago. I've painted things like this since the day Avalon took me in as her daughter." She looked down, letting a curtain of blonde cover her vision. "It's weird isn't it? Yet, so beautiful."

"It was." The Doctor almost whispered, and quickly corrected it, "They are all very beautiful. You're quite the painter."

The Doctor slowly, his hands in his pockets, walked over and took a seat across from her, his face somewhat somber. He leaned back in the chair, looking at her like there was something Martha couldn't see. Something about this girl was strange, and yet she was just an ordinary girl. She stood beside the Doctor, a hand on his shoulder. These paintings meant something, something big and yet something small.

"You're not a real doctor, are you?" She lifted her head up, breaking the silence.

"Correct. We're sort of, travelers." He spoke, his face not changing as he looked at her, a small gust of hope in his eyes. "Do you know why you're so pale? Have they ever told you?"

She shook her head. "They've said I'm anemic, that I'm lacking in vitamin K and A, that I'm just sick." She seemed to be cracking as she spoke; afraid.

"You don't believe it-"

"Of course I don't!" Martha felt the small fear which strung through her words as she spoke, "I have amnesia, I'm sick, I paint this impossible place; something is wrong and I don't know what it is! I just feel like I'm alone, like I'm the last one."

He leaned forward, his arms crossed on the table. He seemed to know what was wrong, and yet he wanted nothing more than to be wrong. He knew she wasn't sick, that she didn't have amnesia; that she wasn't alone. Something in him lifted and he felt his hearts shattering. He knew; he had known the moment she had said she had painted all those photos. He smiled.

"You are not alone."


	3. The Ghost of Gallifrey

A stirring within the Doctor had drawn him to accept the mysterious and familiar girl's proposal to stay the night. The feeling of having the last vivid memories of his home just hanging downstairs made his raging emotions of self hate and sorrow was soothed; the memories of Gallifrey never dying and always living forever among those canvases. The gallery becoming the rust colored planet, the brown lakes filled with the songs of the fish which called it home and the crimson velvet flowers which spread like a fire across the plains. He sighed, following closely beside Martha as Mair led them down a hall towards the supposed 'guest room'. Martha had seemed at war with the whole thing; wanting to get him alone to ask a mountain of questions about this girl. He groaned mentally, not wanting to discuss who she was, or who he believed she might be. He didn't want to believe that she was here, that this whole thing was a horrible nightmare and in the morning he would wake up to the low lull of the TARDIS.

"Sorry there's only one bed, but here it is." Mair pushed open the door, not daring to take a step through the threshold of the door.

Martha thanked her, explaining that it was fine and they had done it once before. The Doctor walked past the two, seemingly ignoring everything they were talking about. He never really bothered when Martha tried to explain their past adventures without giving out too much information, in his mind correcting her every other word. The room was small, the bed taking up most of the space. It was a queen, the sheets being a crimson color with black accents. The only other furniture was a dark cherry wood wardrobe and matching dresser on the opposite side of the wardrobe; a standing white and black lap in the corner. It was the sloped ceiling that drew Martha from her human conversation as she finally gasped at the room. The Doctor shrugged, having spent some of his day within the rooms of royalty.

"I'm right across the hall. If you need anything, just call." The Doctor turned towards her, his dark eyes matching her pale blue eyes in a moments haze.

He felt a shock and a shiver ran down his spine. He blinked and she was gone. He knew that shiver, that shock that sent chills through his skin. A large smile parted against his lips and he felt a lost feeling overflow him. She had just done it, she had reached out. Her mind and his, against separate sides of the same wall, shouting for the other and such a connection he had hungered from another being for centuries. That small lapse of memory, she had felt it too; she must have. Though she hid it just as well as he had, Martha having no idea he had just felt a spring of joy wash over his Time Lord mind. She sank into the side of the bed, looking up at him for a moment.

"Who is she Doctor, really?" Her dark eyes shot at him as if telling him he couldn't hide it any more.

He sighed, taking a spot next to the Londoner. Gathering his thoughts, he leaned on his knees, his hands running through his dark brown hair. He was logically trying to simplify his thoughts, knowing that if he just emptied his mind to her, she wouldn't understand a word he said. He hadn't been able to truly clear his mind of anything, all that information just stored within the back of his mind forever locked away. He hadn't really thought about it, having his mind so cluttered and then having a way to clear such a mess made him tired and giddy all together. He looked up at her, his eyes showing such a glee that Martha had never seen within him before, something which made her heart ache. It was the same light that always sparkled when he talked about Rose and with that she growled to herself.

"I think, that she's like me." He paused gathering a clearer vision of who she must be. "She was called the Ghost on Gallifrey, like how I'm the Doctor."

She scoffed commenting on her appearance which stung his hearts. "She's always been like that. Every regeneration was always paler than normal." He laid back within the plush mattress, staring up at the ceiling. "She was something like a legend in my time, but it couldn't be her." He rubbed his eyes in a groan.

He had already anticipated Martha's question as to why it couldn't be. He wanted to tell her flat out, that he had watch that pale Time Lady, that wonderful and wild Gallifreyan die on the Crucible; the mother ship of the Daleks. She had been shot, her regeneration not given the time needed to fully heal and change her and again shot once more, her body rejecting to regenerate. He had cried out to her, to her lifeless corpse and at the monsters that ended such a woman's life so early in her time. He sighed heavily, trying to remove such images from her mind. Martha leaned back, tilting her head towards him. She gave him a look, which her own words could not fully express. It was a look of comfort, of warmth which made the Doctor understand that she wasn't going to pry. Heaving a heavy sigh, he continued.

"She was sort of a legend among my generation. When she looked within the time vortex at the academy, she ran, like most sane Time Ladies and Lords. She ran, and ran and ran, and even into her older years she continuing running." He smiled lightly remembering the tales he had heard around the court about her shenanigans and mischief, always growing fonder of her by the minute. "She didn't live within the Capitol, like me she lived outside among the mountains."

"Sounds like you fancied her Doctor." Doctor ignored the hints of jealousy in her voice.

"Who didn't? She was wild and against the president. She believed that all of time and space didn't belong to the hands of one race; that such abilities should be forgotten and left to rot. She was something of a protester to you humans." He laughed remembering the many stories he had been told, most of his friends having been the victim of her protests.

"What would she do?" Martha rolled onto her stomach, gathering her hands close to her chest as a playful smile tugged at her lips.

"She would steal the TARDIS's of others, leaving them within different galaxies and planets; using a time vortex manipulator as her means of travel. She hid away from people, supposedly the last of her family." He sighed rolling on his side, his head supported by his hand. "You would never see her, she would pop out of the vortex and that was the last you would see of your TARDIS." He laughed.

"She sounds wild, but if no one ever saw her, how did you know about her pale appearance?" He had known she'd ask. His throat went dry.

"Before the war, she had been caught, revealed to all of Gallifrey. She was hated, feared and infamous among the people. I was one of her guards along with the nine other Time Lords who watched her at one time." Martha's brow rose as she heard of such heavy protection of one girl. "When the war came," he took a long pause his expression hardening as he relived the moments within the battle, "they made her apply as a soldier; one of the few women who was accepted."

He let the words soak between the two of them, as if he was reading them from a textbook. He remembered how they had taken her, her appearance being far from what she was now, dragging her from the large prison where she had lived for half a century. How she had been given a military grade TT Capsule, Rassilon, when was the last time he had called it that? He shook his head, Martha already set on sleeping on the other side of the bed, leaving an empty place for him.

"What happened?" Martha barely whispered, hesitantly wondering if he would tell her.

He sank into the bed beside her, not bothering with the covers. Laying his head back within the soft down feathered pillow, his memory began to flash in front of him as he watched the fight he had lost her in. "She died. Shot down by Dalek within the Crucible. She didn't have time to regenerate."

Martha's expression fell and with it so did her curiosity. She snuggled deep within the crimson blankets, letting her heavy eye lids close slowly, her tired expression damaged by such a haunting ending. The Doctor watched as she fell asleep, his own sleep far from desired. He turned, rolling on his back as he continued to relive that hollow moment when he say the life leave his hearts with hers.

_The shaking TT Capsule jolting around as the two Gallfreyans darted around the console, holding onto anything they could and everything they could. Their hands moving faster than they could even register, pushing buttons, pulling levers and changing the controls which moved the machine through the damaged vortex. Her pale white hair covered with the wake of stars and time. Her nearly colorless lavender eyes shimmering with the destruction of planets and history as she continued to shout instructions at her older counterpart, telling him to pull this and to hold that as they flew the military machine together. The young warrior had been told to watch her, to keep her from running and with that he had become mesmerized by her features. Her nearly faded appearance engulfing him around her, his attention barely being able to draw away from her. _

_Though she was of normal appearance, her high cheekbones and sleek, bridgeless nose and slim jaw line having nearly no beauty to another man; yet all he wanted was to keep her with him. He found her intriguing, beautiful and so strange. He would lose his mind within her, driving him mad with an ache in his hearts. She shouted again, pointing towards a small cluster of blue buttons, yelling for him to press them backwards and diagonally. He followed her instruction, watching as she pulled down a large handle lever and then rushed down towards the doors. _

_It was his turn to yell._

_He shouted in a strange language for her to stop, to not go out there. She had vanished behind the doors, his body flooding with a desire to protect her, to keep her safe. He pulled the monitor around towards him, his eyes scanning every detail on the screen. His eyes widened and he dashed after her, weaponless into the fire of war. The hall was empty, letting him silently getting closer towards the shouts and EXTERMINATE's which flooded his ear drums. He felt the heat of battle and the fear soak his being, sweat brimming his brow. They had entered the Crucible._

_He spotted her. Her hands tangled with the weapons of a Time Lord in hand as she shot down the machines. He watched as one after one, she left nothing but destruction in her wake; the now hollow containers of the Daleks left to clutter the floor. He watched, admiration and affection in his smile, her powers proving her most formidable. He wanted to rise to his feet, applauding her like an actress on stage; to give her the recognition she deserved. His chest tightened, the sight suddenly shattering his whole being. Behind her, hidden by the shadows of the hollowed corpses of its copies, the Dalek took aim at the warrior. Taking aim, the Doctor shouted, his words falling on deaf ears as the green laser shot once. _

_She was brought down, the beam burning at her chest. She stood there, the Doctor frozen as she collapsed to her knees. He couldn't see her, couldn't see her face as she looked up from her wound, the Dalek taking another shot. Her head flew back, her locks of hair flying out as the stars fell from her being, going out like lights. She had fallen; The Ghost of Gallifrey was gone._


	4. My Doctor

The morning had no chance of waking the Doctor, who hadn't slept much more than an hour at best he had deduced. In the time between the rising sun and the setting moon he had taken the silence as a welcoming gesture to freely enter the gallery below. With his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanned the numerous painting which covered the pale white walls. There were paintings of the lakes, the singing fish jumping about, singing under the burnt orange sky, some were of stationed TT Capsules, military and all, lined up like toy soldiers, and another was of the city of glass. The Citadel, such a city it had been, a city of Time Lords and Ladies alike, all living together. Their minds linked and all together talking about one thing or another, all alive and under the President's control. It had been the only place he would ever truly call home, but now, it was gone. He stood there, a hand on the painting, his head bowed as he fought back the feelings welling up in his chest.

He could feel his hearts harden within his chest, these painting haunting him at the undoing he had done. His past now nothing but uneven and warm colored dollops along the once clean canvases, all still an open wound. It felt bitter, a dry roughness along the back of his throat, the memories. He clutched his teeth, the anger now boiling through his blood as it rushed down his veins. Such hatred, such scorn and pain all collapsing around him, his mind built like the Roman Empire, now breaking, crumbling; falling, everything falling. He could feel his hearts shattering as he began remembering things he wished he couldn't, wished that he could delete such hateful things which left his insides to rot. Such terrible things he had done, and not even once. He had never imagined all those years ago of the man he was meant to have become and right now it was making his nerves go numb.

He hadn't noticed her, why should he? She stood in the doorway, her hands clutching onto the two warm mugs of hot chocolate. Her long, pale hair had been loosely tugged into a braid which rolled down her shoulder and over her large knitted multi-colored jumper. Its hem hugged her thighs and covered her knuckles as her expression was that of understanding and not of fear or worry. Her eyes, even at such odd hours of the early morn, were clear and still sparked in the dim lighting. She didn't understand why she understood his way towards her work, but she felt it, she knew it. It made her heart crack and at the same time she felt a pang of pity, like she could feel that her work was more than just fantasy, to him it was real; oh so very real.

She cleared her throat, the Doctor's head snapping in her direction. She felt a stab as she saw the small fragments of what was left of his own sanity glittering within his eyes, feeling something coil tighter in her heart. She smiled, a rather crooked smile with that, her hand raising the warm mug high, an offering. The steam stirred around the air which shifted once he came close, inches from the young Welsh girl. They stood there, his mind trying, trying so hard, to burst through again, to see into her mind once more. His eyes bore holes into hers, making her shiver and inhale sharply in surprise as his thin fingers began to wrap around the offered cup. She caught her breath once more, her lungs filling with the cool air between the two of them.

"Thank you." His voice made her body freeze, goose bumps radiating across her skin.

She nodded in response, her voice gone, following the Doctor as he walked back to the same seat they had previously been yesterday. He took a seat, the mug sitting between his hands, his eyes locked with hers as she still stood in the doorway. Their voices were not speaking, not heard and yet they were in a conversation. His mind was still prying into hers from afar, trying to see if the biological conversion had been damaged enough, and the cracks within her human made mind were wide for him to squeeze through. He watched her bring the white porcelain mug to her pale lips and took a sip as she made her way towards him. She soundlessly sat across from him, the mug wrapped delicately within her small hands.

She was so delicate. All her features, and it boggled his mind that he was sitting with the infamous Ghost of Gallifrey, the girl he had seen die. He felt his throat go dry, taking a quick sip of the hot chocolate, the warm liquid moistening his lips and throat once more. It must be a dream, it had to be. She had been shot, twice. She was dead upon the cold metal floor of the Crucible during The Last Great Time War. She yawned, breaking his mental concentration and thoughts all in one; almost like she was bored of his attempts. He straightened up a bit, clearing his throat lightly preparing to speak. For the first few moments, they just sat there, looking at each other with their cups of chocolate in hand.

"If you're tired, you should go back to bed." He took another sip of the chocolate, loving the sweetness which rolled down his throat.

"No, not tired, just sort of bored." She smiled, following his steps with the chocolate. "Can I ask you something?"

He nodded, anticipating the question moments before she spoke. "You look at these paintings, these, rubbish things and you become a different man. What do they mean to you?"

He paused, letting her words sink in a bit more. He had known she was going to ask, but he hadn't thought of an answer. He couldn't tell her, not yet. He groaned at the thought of waiting to find out if she was really who he thought she was; even now he knew it had to be her. A twinkle, a small shine bounced off of her and caught his eye. It was a necklace; a locket around her thin neck. It rest between the protruding collarbones and the silver coloring was shimmering in the rising sun light. He looked at it, the engravings somewhat messy and unclear at the distance between them.

"That necklace, where's you get it?" He didn't even have enough time to register what he had just asked.

It was a small oval shaped locket, the engravings of clustered circles forged on the surface. It was held around her neck by a thin matching chain, which looked older and dirtier then the locket itself. The clasp which kept the locket closed was gold, which stood out amongst the many silver pieces around it. When she looked at it, it was like she had no idea it had been there. Her eyes widened a bit as she held it between her forefinger and thumb, examining the pendant. She didn't move to remove the silver chain from her neck, just the opposite. She dropped it, from her hand and almost from her mind as well. She looked back up at him, the mug at her lips. Setting it down, she shuffled within her seat, trying to think of a good answer towards his question.

"I don't know. I think Jensen found me with it." She let it fall back against her skin, looking back up at the Doctor.

"Jensen? Who's Jensen?" He felt something hot boil within the bottom of his stomach, something he didn't trust about that name.

"He's the guy who found me on the beach three years ago; he's also sort of my doctor." Her cheeks became dusted in a light pink as she spoke of him, affection behind those brilliant pale eyes. Taking a sip of her drink, obviously finishing hers, she stood up, "Well, it's nearly nine and since _you're_ obviously not my doctor, it means Jensen's coming around at nine thirty, like always."

Tucking a loose strand behind her ear, the pale girl smiled exiting the room. She left the Doctor alone within the haunting room. He rubbed his eyes, his mind now exhausted from trying to chip away at her mind, trying to get her back once more, yet his body was more than capable for the day ahead. He stood up, the two white porcelain mugs now the only things left of the two Gallifreyians within the room of memories. He stopped, looking back as his hands were stuffed within his pockets, the room around now lighting up with the filtered sunlight of the morn. The room was silent, so quiet, before the storm. He looked down, not wanting to continue down this path, not to have such hope be proven false. He turned, leaving the room of his childhood, leaving the memories of his past life and leaving the one person who could forever change his life.


	5. Disappearance

Martha had woken up several hours after the Doctor, surprised when she came down that he was sitting there with two cups of coffee waiting. She joined him, taking her own cup and drinking the warm bitter liquid. It diminished the tiredness which racked her body, awakening every cell in her. She took another sip, balancing out the initial shock of the drink to calm the quarrel of her tired mind and her woken body. She looked back at the Doctor, the slender man not moving as he gazed out the window. He must have been lost in his own mind, since it seemed her appearance had not do a thing to his concentration on the small shop across the way. He was just sitting there, motionless which made Martha worry a bit as her concentration was on the man she had traveled with for so many months.

"Doctor, are you alright?" She asked, the mug within her fingers feeling cooler and her hand adjusted to the radiating warmth. She brought it back to her lips and took another drink, waiting for his answer.

He shuffled, his head turning back towards his companion. She was still colored with the sleep of last night, though she continued to drink the bitter caffeine in her palms. He himself couldn't drink the liquid, it being much too bitter and pungent for his taste buds; it just sat there, warming the skin in which it touched. He had been thinking of ways to approach this situation, how to attend to such a thing as another Time Lord, rather a Time _Lady_, being in the universe other then himself. He was ecstatic, he was confused, he was dismal, he just couldn't figure out which was the one he wanted to be true. He wanted to just do what he always did, run. He wanted to just fly away and leave the artist to live away the rest of her life; yet he couldn't find it in himself to do such a thing. He wanted, if not needed, to be forgiven. He wanted to pour out his wrong doings unto another Time Lord and beg for forgiveness in knowing that his actions had been rectified and of well intentions. That was all he wanted; forgiveness.

"We need to go back to the TARDIS. I have a scanner there that can confirm if she is Gallifreyian; even through the biological configuration." She nodded, rising from her seat after her alien companion.

The two of them began towards the door, the two mugs forgotten on the table by the window. The room was silent besides the steps of the travelers, though the scuffling amongst the kitchen staff in the back was echoed towards the front. Martha followed behind her Doctor, his long seeping brown jacket pulled back as his hands were stuffed in his pockets. His features were stern, as though he was inwardly fighting himself. Martha wondered what was racing through his mind, so much had happened since falling out of the vortex only the other day and here they were, now debating on what to do about the possibility of another Time Lord living along the surface of Earth. As they reached the pale white door, pulling it back, they were met half way by a tall figure. Martha nearly ran into the men before her, peeking out from behind the Doctor to see who now stood in their way.

She raised a brow, the man being about the size of the Time Lord, maybe even inches taller. His wide broad shoulders and olive skin gave off a sense of an intimidating spectrum towards the companion; the Doctor and the human's eyes locked in a sort of battle themselves. Martha ignored the somewhat thick atmosphere which boiled around them, her eyes examining the tall handsome man. He had a lean built, his features somewhat hidden by the suit he was dressed in. His dark hair was smoothed, combed in such a way that it made it look like a neat mess, giving his dark emerald eyes a sort of, hidden and mysterious look. As she looked between the two, it was as if they were mirroring the other; their hands both stuffed within their pockets, their heads somewhat tilted back as if examining the other. Martha wanted to cough or create some distraction for each other to break the thickening tension in the small space within the door threshold.

"Jensen! On time as always." Sounded the angelic voice of the pale Mair who trotted down the stairs. "Oh, I guess you've met my new friends."

The attentions of the three people were transferred from the tension built in the door towards the younger and smaller girl now slipping on a pair of tattered trainer. Mair had come down dressed in a faded grey jumper which hung around her shoulder, the cream colored tank top peeking over her shoulder, a tight fitting black skirt which hugged her hips and magnified the pale flesh beneath the fabric and a printed scarf to curve around her thin neck to finish the look. Martha groaned inwardly as the small girl looked wonderful, with her pale blonde locked twisted into a messy bun with her bangs swept across her brow to frame those nearly translucent blue hues. She had painted her lips in a brilliant shade of cherry red, which showed brightly across her dusty pink cheeks.

"Yeah, just sort of ran into them. Well, I'm Jensen, Jensen Williams. You are…?" The broad man's lips tugged into a prideful smile as he extended his hand outwardly towards the Doctor, who stared down at the extended limb before grasping it firmly and giving it a stern shake.

"I'm the Doctor, pleasure to meet you." Martha could see past that façade of smiles and wit which the Doctor showcased for the man whom he had created such a tension within just mere seconds upon meeting.

"Doctor huh? Doctor of what exactly?" Jensen raised his deep seated brow, questionably, his hand dropping back to his pockets; the Doctor following suit.

"Oh you know, a little bit of everything really." Martha felt a pang of anger as she seemed to go unnoticed by the two men, though it seemed if she were a pale blonde Welsh girl, their attention wouldn't have left her. "Oh, and this is my companion, Martha Jones. Go on and say hi."

Martha was used to the normal antics of the men she met alongside the Doctor, most of them taking her hand gentlemanly and pressing a light kiss upon her hand with a smile peering right up at her. She hated the look in which he gave her, merely nodding his head and turning back towards the slender man whom had brought up the conversation around the word Doctor.

"I'm also a doctor, though of medicine." Jensen replied only to look past the Doctor and Martha towards Mair; a brilliant smile of conquest upon his lips. "I have a new test I want to run by you."

The Welsh girl smiled up at him, in which the Doctor seemed to have a fierceness brighten in his eyes. He didn't enjoy the sound of people testing the naïve girl whom believe she was a sickly human. It scorned him to relive such medical testing's in which he, himself, had undergone in his previous incarnation. He hated the image of them tying her down as they scanned her for any difference, only to be dishearten upon finding that nothing was out of the ordinary; then to continue with another test. He felt a feeling of protectiveness growing stronger beneath his skin as he watched the Ghost of Gallifrey take hold of the mysterious man's hand, like he was losing her if she left.

"Well, it was a pleasure meeting you two and you're welcome back anytime." Mair waved as she led the way out the door, Jensen leading her into a black SVU; the window dimmed and blacked.

He turned around, closing the door after the blonde disappeared in the vehicle. A smirk poked at his features as he looked back at the Doctor and Martha. His face gave Martha the chills, as his eyes once more locked with the Doctor's. He stiffened, something of distaste and anger beginning to form on his face as he looked back at the man. Martha didn't like the looks they were sending, didn't like the tension which was created by this Jensen Williams character. Bringing two fingers together, he gave something of a half hearted salute to the Doctor and his companion, a small arrogant laugh leaving his lips as he called back to them before entering the machine.

"Be seeing ya, _Doctor."_


End file.
